


Light My Fire

by TotalFanGirl221B



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:49:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanGirl221B/pseuds/TotalFanGirl221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt - you’ve been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you’re ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he’s just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know, as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you’ve never seen sits down explaining loudly “sorry i’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” and he quietly adds, “i’m Michael. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.” and so you do go with it  and as you’re leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time. </p><p>So, I haven't stuck exactly to the prompt, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light My Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Cabin Pressure or any of the characters!
> 
> You can also find this on my Tumblr: http://the-ways-of-a-clot.tumblr.com/

Martin fiddled with his napkin nervously, eyes fixed to the table as he tore it apart bit by bit. Forty five minutes had gone by, and now the looks were beginning to grate on his nerves. The waitress had come over at the beginning, asking if he was ready to order. “No, I’m just waiting for somebody. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” he smiled awkwardly, already feeling as though he had made a huge mistake. The waitress seemed to think so too, and continued to shoot sorry glances his way as she walked past his table, going to serve new couples coming in. What a fool he had been.

               Perhaps Mark was just stuck in traffic. That was probably it, of course. Martin went through the possible reasons for Mark not sitting on the opposite side of the table to him. Talking to him, discussing their day; the things couples did on date night. The one thing that constantly ran through his mind was the only reason that seemed _plausible;_ Mark was not the best boyfriend Martin had dated. In fact, he was not even close to the best. But, Martin was lonely, and so he thought he would give Mark a chance. They had been on a few dates now, but still Martin had not really felt much of a connection. _In time,_ he reminded himself over and over. Now he realised what an idiot he had been. Loneliness was too much for him, though. He just wanted _somebody. Anybody._ Then Mark came along, and Mark, he was nice. Perhaps not the best, but he was alright, and Martin wanted to get to know this man more.

               No text, no calls, nothing. Martin even now considered that he was going mad and Mark had never existed; he had just created this figure to quell his loneliness. He managed to remove that thought quickly from his mind as he scanned his phone, pausing at the man’s number. It definitely was a real number. He groaned, looking up at the door in hope. Why he still had any hope he did not know, but he just couldn’t bear the thought of having been stood up.

               An hour and ten minutes, and Martin was still sat at his table, looking even lonelier than he had when he actually had _nobody._ He tapped his fingers on the table anxiously, taking a sip from his water. He wouldn’t look around the room, feeling sorry eyes burning into his being. _Everybody_ was glancing at him. Doing the ‘I’m trying not to be obvious that I’m looking at you’ stare from people, and then their partners turning subtly around to see the lonely man sat at his table all alone. The waitress had come back, asking again if he was going to order. She felt bad doing so, but it was clear that her boss had asked her to in order to get this man who was not going to buy anything from his restaurant to leave, so he could give this table to a _paying customer._ Martin though could not leave now, because then it would show he had given up. Martin was stubborn, and he was not going to allow these people to see his weakness. He would stay there and hope; hope that Mark would eventually show up, or he would wait until they were closing and leave when there was nobody there, never to return to this place again.

              “He- he’ll be here soon, he just text; traffic.” Martin shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. The look the waitress made as she walked away made it obvious that he had not managed to do so. Martin didn’t care though. Why should he? All he really cared about was the fact that he had been stood up, and Mark did not even have the decency to tell him he was not going to come. Martin felt like calling him. He felt like giving him a piece of his mind. Then he fought against that urge, realising the worst thing he could do now is call Mark, causing a scene in the restaurant. He could go _out_ and do it, but what would be the point? It would just show his defeat; show how utterly desperate he is. And now Martin wasn’t even desperate. Truth be told, he did not care that it was Mark who hadn’t shown up. Because he didn’t feel anything for Mark, and he didn’t see a future with him. Mark had just filled a gap in Martin’s life, and he had not done it very well. Eventually Martin would have had to end things, but now Mark had even taken that from him. No, Martin was not mad that he had no future with Mark. He was mad that it had happened in _this_ way. If Mark had wanted to end things, he could have done so easily here. Perhaps Martin would have been upset, but he would get over it soon. Being stood up was a punch in the face. It was such an insult, because it showed just how desperate Mark was to _not_ be with Martin. And that was what hurt him. Did he really repulse and bore people so much?

              Then, suddenly, when Martin had given up on all hope, there was _somebody._ He was staring down at the table, once again fiddling with his napkin, when he heard the door open. This time he could not care to look up, not wanting to be disappointed yet again. He heard the waitress greet whoever it was coming in, and then show him to the table. _Martin’s_ table. The Captain could sense somebody’s presence near his table, though he assumed it would eventually pass by him.

               It didn’t, though. Both the waitress and the customer stopped when they came to his table. “Sorry I’m late, Darling.” Martin immediately looked up; he knew that voice. There, stood by the now relieved looking waitress, was Douglas Richardson. This night was just going from bad to _terrible._ It was just his luck that Douglas would somehow spot Martin and decide now would be the time to embarrass him, even now _outside_ of work. What joy, Martin thought grimly as he turned to face the waitress who was now smiling to Martin, feeling better for him. “Traffic is terrible, you see.” The First Officer sat himself down gracefully, ordering himself a glass of water and turning to Martin as the waitress left them. People were staring again, happily, all of them believing this was the bastard who had stood him up. It wasn’t, though, this was just a _different_ bastard who liked to taunt Martin whenever he could. This night would just be more leverage for the man to use over Martin the next time Douglas wanted something, or even when he didn’t and just felt like making the captain feel that little bit more insecure about himself.

               “Is _Sir_ going to bother _looking_ at me? Because, if not, then I do not think this is going to be so fun,” Douglas smiled, obviously not sensing Martin’s squirming. He should just get up and leave, he really should. It’s not like anybody here would judge him, all believing he is the man who had shown up nearly two hours late for their date. “Oh, Martin, come on. I know this isn’t exactly the night you planned, but it’s a lot better than sitting here alone!” Martin immediately shot his head up, anger now racing through him. How _dare_ he? Douglas didn’t know how long Martin had been here, he did not know that Mark had not bothered telling Martin he wasn’t going to show up. Douglas had simply _assumed,_ and he had no right to do that.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Martin spat vehemently, glaring at the older man.

“ _Saving_ you, apparently; although, you’re not being incredibly grateful about it.” Douglas rolled his eyes, sipping from his drink. Martin turned his hands into fists, frustrated by the other man’s uncaring attitude. Martin was angry, and Douglas had just made it _worse._

“ _Saving me?_ ” Martin scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “How- how on earth are you _saving me?_ What are you s-saving me from? If I am being ungrateful, Douglas, it- it is because you have n- _nothing_ to save me from!” he almost shouted, but soon hushed as he noticed now people watching over again.

“Well,” Douglas seemed a little taken aback by the sudden outburst from his Captain, but managed to respond quite quickly. “For starters, I’m saving you from embarrassment; you’ve been here for a long time, Martin, and whoever was supposed to turn up _is not coming,”_

“How do you-”

“I passed here about twenty minutes ago, on my way to the shops. When I passed again, you were still here. Now, either you just like to sit in restaurants and watch people eat food you cannot afford, or – and this is the theory _I_ personally believe to be true, unless you would like to prove otherwise – you have been stood up.” Martin wanted to say something, wanted to punch Douglas for what he was saying. But he was _right._ Martin had been sat here waiting for somebody who was _never_ going to turn up, and he just had not wanted to admit it to himself.

“How are you s-saving me, though?” Martin whispered, a part of him hoping Douglas wouldn’t hear him. “You’re just going to use this against me somehow, and s-so I’m not going to come out of this any better than I had come in, a-am I?” for a moment, Douglas looked insulted. He stared at Martin, hurt clear in his eyes, wondering why Martin would think that. Then, he realised, he had rather brought this upon himself; everyday he taunted Martin for nothing in particular, and he had never made it clear to the man that he may have _some_ respect for him, nor that he was particularly fond of him. If this is how Martin perceived Douglas, then the First Officer really could not blame him.

                “Martin,” he began once the waitress had brought their food, now speaking a little softer than before. “I will not use this against you,” he spoke sincerely, looking directly to his pilot.

“But that’s w-what you _do,_ and to be honest, I wouldn’t blame you. ‘Martin gets stood up on a date by somebody who was actually even more _boring_ than himself. He’s probably g-going to be alone for the rest of his _life’_. I- I see why you might mock me for that,” Martin sighed, not eating his food but rather rocking it from side to side with his fork. Douglas stared at the man, his eyes softening. If only he had been a little more pleasant to the man, then he could explain how really fond of him he was.

“Look at me, Martin.” Douglas spoke sternly, refusing to continue until the younger man glanced up. “Whoever stood you up is a right bastard, and if you tell me who he is I can probably make sure he regrets this decision,” he smirked, trying to coax Martin to at least smile, but he only seemed more confused. “But right now he is not here, and I have not come to mock or to taunt; I have simply come in with the hope of improving your evening.” He spoke with such seriousness that Martin had to pause before responding, _wanting_ to believe what was being said to him.

“Y-you’re not going to use this against me?” he spoke hesitantly, straightening himself in his seat.

“No,” Douglas shook his head.

“And you r-really have just come to cheer me up?”

“Yes,” Douglas nodded.

“Right,” Martin swallowed. He nodded, trying to process this information. Douglas… _cared_? This evening could not be any more confusing, Martin thought. “Well, er,” he began, finally believing Douglas was saying. Whether that was a mistake or not, he would just have to find out. “Thank you.” He nodded, his First Officer smiling back.

“My pleasure,”

* * *

“Who was it?” Douglas eventually asked, halfway through their meal, breaking the awkward silence surrounding him and his colleague. Martin looked up from his plate, a little confused. “Your date, who was he?”

“ _He?”_

“Come on, you’re not fooling anybody. We all knew which team you played for. You almost fooled us though, to be fair to you.”

“Hm? What g-gave it away?”

“You never used female pronouns,” Douglas explained, grinning slightly as the confusion was back on Martin’s face. “Whenever I asked you about dating, you always said ‘they’ or something along those lines, never specifying which sex you were interested in. I figured you didn’t want to tell me, so I never asked.” Martin was oddly touched, for some reason, but tried to hide it. “Plus, you didn’t make such a fuss when it was me who announced was your date.”

“I could have been bi-sexual,”

“Are you?” Martin waited for a moment before shaking his head in defeat. “Exactly.” Douglas smiled.

“Fine, you win. I’m _gay.”_ He sighed, waiting for some form of disgust to come from his First Officer. When nothing came after a few minutes, he looked up to see Douglas watching him carefully. “A-aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Why would I?”

“Douglas, I’m _gay.”_ He emphasised, yet Douglas still didn’t seem to understand. “People normally tend to have a negative opinion on it, is all.”

“Yes, well, the majority of them are idiots.” Douglas scoffed. “And anyway, it would be rather hypocritical of me to discriminate.”

“ _What_?” Martin’s eyes widened. “You’re gay? Y-you _can’t_ be! You have children – you h-have three ex- _wives_!” Douglas raised his hands to quieten Martin down, noticing now that people were beginning to look over. Martin mouthed sorry, and then asked again.

“ _You_ may not play for _both_ sides, but I happen to. I dabble, you see.”

“You _dabble?”_ Martin sneered, eliciting only a nod from Douglas. This caused them both to burst into laughter; Martin laughing at how blind he had been and how utterly strange this situation was, and Douglas simply because Martin’s laugh was contagious.

                “Mark,” Martin finally announced. “It was Mark who stood me up.” He sighed, looking back down to the table. “We- we’ve only been dating for a few weeks now, n-nothing _serious.”_

“That doesn’t excuse him from not bothering to turn up,” Douglas interjected before Martin began covering for this horrible man. “How long had you been waiting?”

“Almost two hours,” Martin mumbled.

“What an _arse,”_ Douglas grumbled. “I definitely would not arrange to meet him again,” Martin smiled and nodded in agreement. “And, if you do, it should be only so you can show him what you are made of.” Martin didn’t know exactly how to respond to that. Douglas had never been this kind to him. In fact, _nobody_ had ever been this kind to him. It was all rather odd, really. Martin’s awful evening had now become one of the nicest evenings he had had in a long while. He beamed at the realisation.

“Thanks,”

* * *

 

The pair had no more awkward silences to be filled, talking and talking all evening, about nothing really. Sometimes they would talk about work, sometimes about things completely unrelated. Douglas allowed Martin to talk about planes to his heart’s content, and Martin listened intently as Douglas spoke about his two daughters growing up quickly (a little _too_ quickly, if Douglas was honest). The evening was filled with laughter, and soon they forgot that they were in a room filled with people. They ordered dessert, Martin cautiously trying to pick something cheap, until Douglas groaned, physically removed the menu from the other man’s grasp and ordered for him. “Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. My treat.” He reassured the pilot. Martin didn’t have it in him to argue and refuse, so he simply allowed it. And oh, had Douglas been right; Martin absolutely enjoyed his dessert, it having been something he would never have been able to afford.

* * *

 

The pair left the restaurant and walked together, neither knowing really where they were going. As long as they were walking in the direction of either of their homes it was fine. The walk was slow and the connection between them had not changed since the restaurant; the conversation continued to flow, the laughter. Everything about this was _perfect;_ it had been a better night than Martin had anticipated it would be, even if Mark _had_ turned up.

                Then, suddenly, the pair came to a stop. They had not arrived at either of their homes, but a silence had fallen over them. A nice silence, though. Douglas turned to his young partner and stared for a moment. He gazed lovingly over Martin’s face, eyes falling when they reached his lips. Martin, though, did not feel uncomfortable underneath his gaze. Rather, he found himself doing exactly the same, staring hungrily at his partner, wondering whether he should move in closer.

                The decision was made for him eventually, as Douglas moved in slowly and gently placed his lips against Martin’s. Both moved into each other, Douglas’ hand moving up Martin’s arm slowly as his lips pushed further. Martin moaned, feeling his partner’s warm breath on his skin, kissing back fervently. Martin’s hands wrapped around Douglas, rubbing up his back as they pressed together, eyes closed with pleasure. And then it was over. It had been quick, too quick, Martin thought as he stared at Douglas longingly, pulling away gently. “That… that was,” Martin stuttered, his cheeks flushing immediately. His palms were already sweating with nervousness, but excitement rushed through him.

“Yes,” Douglas agreed, rushing a quick hand through his hair. “Glad you agree,” he smirked. Martin grinned, pushing Douglas in the shoulder playfully.

                Both fell silent for a moment, but Martin soon broke the silence, giggling nervously. “This night… I thought it was going to be _terrible.”_ His eyes widened as he realised how wrong he had been. “I never thought, I never _expected-”_

“No, nor I,” Douglas smirked. “If I had known that tonight was the night I would finally seduce my idiot of a captain, I definitely would have shown up a little earlier!”  

“Yes, well, don’t worry about that.” Martin smiled softly. He moved closer to Douglas once more, smoothing down the older man’s collar. “I’m sure you’ll turn up on time next time,” he looked up to Douglas, hope gleaming in his eyes.

“I shall not disappoint, _Darling.”_ Martin chuckled, Douglas lifting his chin, kissing him once more. This time not finishing so quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Any comments you may have are greatly appreciated, thank you :)


End file.
